


Doctor David

by CureIcy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Episode: e177 Wonderland (The Magnus Archives), Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Has ADHD, M/M, Minor Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26935537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CureIcy/pseuds/CureIcy
Summary: In which David was not a husband stolen by the vase, but a repressed memory of Jon's, one that he's been trying very, very hard to forget. Until the Ceaseless Watcher above forces him to relive that recurring nightmare from the other side, and he feels more monstrous than ever.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	Doctor David

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for :
> 
> Self harm (freeform)
> 
> Ableism, internalized and externalized and somewhere in between.
> 
> TMA episode 177 and all that comes with

Jon was a bad kid.

Jon ran off too much. He wandered in places he wasn’t supposed to. He fidgeted in class and spent too much time buried in books and demanded too much of his grandmother’s precious time. He was selfish.

“Have you considered an ADHD diagnosis?” The doctor asked, her eyes concerned.

“No grandchild of mine is getting medicated for your agenda,” she said firmly, pulling Jon away, and Jon was later made to understand that he was simply a child and his grandmother knew better than the doctor.

Jon’s name wasn’t Jon when he was a child, and he does his best to forget his deadname, but it’s all his grandmother ever called him. It’s the only thing he has left of his parents, but it hurts when he hears it.

His deadname is nothing like the one he uses now, didn’t even start with the same letter, was long and frilly and close to unique. He likes Jon better. Jonathan for legal matters, but just Jon everywhere else. It’s short and simple and to the point, and it does its job. No negative associations, just a word.

(Except when he rubs cream over his top surgery scars, he remembers a plastic mannequin who stole her name as easily as stitched together skin, and feels sick.)

* * *

  
  


The Archivist rips off the face that clings to him like unwanted skin and he cannot breathe but he does not need to. This place breathes in uncertainty and breathes out pain, and it moves where his lungs no longer can.

_ “Well, what did you expect to see?” _

His face was always there but it’s not his. Nothing ever belonged to him, except the world, and even then he doesn’t want it never wanted any of this.

“Fuck,” Basira says succinctly. Jon would agree with her except he needs needs needs this feeling gone, so he slams his hand down on the tape recorder until the whirring is gone from his head, and he keeps going.

Why is this happening? Knowledge is power. Why can this hurt him?

Because it’s his, it’s his pain and doubt and it’s always been festering inside of him. He is walking through the mindscape of his own trauma. The entire universe is Jon’s neverending nightmare and he wants to wake up.

Down. Down. Down. He hears a crack but it’s not gone, it’s not gone yet he can’t stop now, and the next thing he knows his hands are pushing sharp fragments of plastic out of his flesh, and he is watching, watching. There’s a shattered mess in front of him. There’s a shattered mess inside of him. He still wants to break something.

“Fuck Doctor David,” Jon says, breathless.

“Is this normal?” Basira demands. “This—“

She keeps moving and making noise. She leaves. It’s quiet. Jon’s head is full of screaming and some of it is his now. Someone comes back. He can’t see. He can’t breathe.

“Jon? Jon, look at me. No,  _ me. _ Nothing else. All right? You’re with me. It’s okay.”

Jon looks and looks and finds Martin amidst the fog. He’s been here before, hasn’t he? He found— Martin. Jon found Martin and Martin is his, his what?

His boyfriend? A rumbling memory says, Jared, bones flesh ribs Jon cracked his ribs with a shitty binder and never told his grandmother, she’d be disappointed but she never really cared. No one cared about Jon until—

Until Martin. Jon looks and looks and drinks him in, and he does not drink in the fear but the  _ safety _ of the one he loves.

“I see you,” Jon says, remembering what Martin told him so long ago.  _ I see you, Jon. _

“Doesn’t he see literally everything?” Basira interrupts brusquely.

“Basira, if you don’t back the fuck off I swear I will leave you to wander alone,” Martin snaps, then turns back to Jon as if nothing happened. “Jon. It can’t hurt you.”

“But I can hurt myself,” Jon rasps, and laughs and laughs and does not stop. He cannot breathe. He cannot breathe anymore and it’s killing him that his chest is full of eyes where his lungs should be.

“Do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to distract you?” Martin asks calmly, beginning to cradle Jon’s head in his hands. Jon melts into the touch. Martin’s fingers are all that keeps him together, and finally he speaks.

“Doctor David. Saw him when I was eighteen. College sucked, counselor suggested ADHD, and David…..” He wonders, if he cries, if the sky will rain blood. “I didn’t know I could leave. I sat there for an hour. I didn’t know I had a choice. He made everything worse.”

“Well, you have a choice now,” Martin says firmly. “Look at how far you’ve come, Jon. You’re doing the best you can to make the world better.”

“Would the world be better if he was dead?”

“Who?”

“David. It’s been a decade, I don’t even— I think I was marked by the Spiral long before Michael stabbed me.” Jon chuckles, and it’s a hollow sound without any mirth that echoes far too much in these halls. He hates how much he sounds like Michael. “That’s the funny thing, though. He’s dead. Last year, heart attack in his sleep. Now it’s just me.”

“Jon, I need you here with me,” Martin says firmly, cradling his boyfriend’s face with his hands. 

“I’m everywhere. I can’t— I’ll try?”

“That’s all I ask.”

“Lead me home?” Jon pleads. And there is no home for them in this cruel and dying world, but somehow Martin understands. Because Jon only feels at home in his boyfriend’s arms. And in that embrace they are safe for just a little longer.

**Author's Note:**

> So how about that doctor David! Can’t believe people are actually horny for this bastard. Smh @ allos 
> 
> …
> 
> …
> 
> ….you can walk away. You have the right to walk out of the room if a therapist belittles and gaslights you. Leave before they can fuck up your mental health and undo the progress you’ve made. It’s okay. You have that right. No one ever told me that. But it doesn't have to be this way. If no one has ever given you permission to heal on your own terms, I'm doing it now.


End file.
